


Home to You

by InNeedOfInspiration



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War, F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-26 08:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13231629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InNeedOfInspiration/pseuds/InNeedOfInspiration
Summary: Takes place during Infinity War. During a battle, Thanos uses the Time Stone to get rid of Steve and send him back where he belongs. (Time travel fanfic)





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> And I am back! Quite quickly I know, but I couldn't get that story out of my head so I'd better write it down!  
> Another time travel fanfic (couldn't resist). Hope you like it!

Hell had fallen upon Earth, and the Devil was standing tall and square in front of them. 

Chaos surrounded them all, and it seemed no matter the effort they gave, it was doomed to be just a raindrop on raging flames. But they kept fighting nevertheless.  

The exceptional circumstances had made the Avengers assemble again, and along, a whole new group of superheroes who had traveled across the constellations and otherworldly realities to help in neutralizing the greatest menace the Universe had ever known.

But Thanos seemed invincible, just as his determination was unwavering. He and his army of the most ferocious creatures he had found in the cosmos fought through and through, leaving a trail of ashes and unnameable horror behind them.

After taking down one of those beastly soldiers, Steve looked up, panting, as he gazed at the chaotic sight before him, watching each and every one of his old and new companions brawl. Thanos was gazing too, with a sadistic smirk playing on his lips. Dr. Strange, standing the closest to him, went for him. Thanos remained imperturbable. He dodged his opponent’s magical attacks with an amused expression. Strange shot him a dumbfounded look, then Thanos swiftly got hold of his throat and lifted him up in the air. Strange’s feet flapped over the ground as he tried to break free, but his hands were hardly the size of Thanos’ smallest finger. He glanced down at the magician’s chest. In a brutal motion, he snatched the necklace off his neck and tossed Strange away like a rag doll. His body flew across and hit the wall before touching the ground, unconscious.   
Steve’s eyes widened. He knew too well how powerful and harrowing this new acquisition was.

Thanos relished on the sight of the relic in the palm of his hand. Steve charged towards him.  

“Time to do some cleaning around here,” he said with a ferocious voice. He held up the Eye of Agametto and pointed it at Steve.

Steve froze. Natasha kicked away the creature she was fighting and dashed in his direction.

His heart beating hard into his chest and knowing his end was coming, Steve turned his head and glanced at Natasha who was jumping over remains, her eyes locked into his.

Natasha was getting close, running as fast as her legs could take her. She held her arm up, reaching for him. Steve mirrored her.

“Farewell, Captain.” Thanos said. 

A green light sprung out of the old locket straight to him. 

“NOOOOO,” Natasha cried out in horror and the light hit him. Then everything went black, and Natasha, along with scenery surrounding her vanished.  
That seemed to be the end.

His body was thrust forward, although completely motionless, and he felt every cell in his body being transported away. The sensation hardly lasted a few seconds, then when everything stopped, light loomed back again. 

His eyelids burst open, and as his lungs frantically swallowed for the air that had returned, he took in the sight before him. New York City again but New York City all so different from the way he had just left. New York all so different, but New York City all so familiar.

People, across the street, went on with their lives totally ignoring his presence, and seemingly unaware of the hellish condition Thanos had made it.   
He blinked as his mind processed their old-fashioned garments and hairstyles. A red Chevrolet Fleetline drove past him and he realized. He realized what Thanos had done. He hadn’t made him waste away; he had brought him back to the place he was from. Actually, the time he was from. 

Steve was back in the past. Back home. 

He ran, sort of aimlessly across the road, as he tried to get his bearings amid this environment he knew by heart. And yet everything felt foreign and remote. And although he was physically there, his mind couldn’t seem to grasp it just yet.

He went to the newspaper stall standing by the end of the road and his eyes roamed over the papers.

**April 15, 1951**

His heart skipped a beat and sunk down his chest. He was indeed back.

“That’s — that’s impossible,” he murmured to himself and read the date again.

He turned away and gazed all across as his eager pupils absorbed the scenery surrounding him. As impossible as it was, there was no denying he had been sent back to his original time (or almost). 

He searched through the turmoil of thoughts in his head to find what he needed to do, now. He couldn’t ignore the fact Thanos was wreaking havoc in the future, and it was still his responsibility to stop him. He ran off again as he recalled there was indeed someone who could assist him in the matter.

* * *

The sight of Steve had disappeared before Natasha’s eyes and there was nothing she could have done to prevent it.

Her heart was bumping in her chest beyond might, and she fell the ground below her fall apart.

“NOOOOO,’ she screamed again in despair and her fingers reached for the spot where he was standing just a second ago and was now just filled with thin air. Her fist closed tight until her fingers sunk into the flesh of her palm. She turned to face Thanos.

"What have you done to him?” she hissed at him with a rage that took hold of her completely. 

Thanos barely glanced into her direction and smirked.

She clenched her jaw as a painful whimper forced itself between her lips. Her chest squeezed and her lungs began to gasp for air. 

“What have you done…,” she repeated again but Thanos was already walking away, as she seemed too meaningless for him for a response or his attention. 

She glared up at his figure and her eyes darkened. She switched on her gauntlets.

She charged forward, bounced on a car for momentum and thrust herself forward. She clutched her arm around one of his broad shoulders and hauled her body up. Her legs clasped tightly around his throat before dipping her gauntlets into his skin and activate her Widow bites. Thanos groaned, reached for her and jolted her off of him.

She landed heavily on the ground, catching her breath. Thanos and his army began to depart. 

All the team, exhausted and disoriented by their leader’s abrupt loss stared numbly. They all silently agreed it was a fight to resume later. 

Natasha shook her head. She got on her knees, trying to catch her senses again before attacking again. Dizzy and shaken, she rose to her feet nonetheless and started off towards Thanos again. 

She felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and hold her back.

“You can’t go after him. Stay here,” a voice whispered to her reassuringly. She didn’t have to look to know it was Clint.

She watched in disarray as Thanos boarded on his shuttle.

“No,” she cried out as she tried to get out of her best friend’s firm hold.

“Steve is gone,” Clint said again. She twitched harder and shook her head in denial. Clint lifted her off the ground in response. The door of the shuttle closed slowly and she gasped. 

“HE’LL KILL YOU, NATASHA!” Clint shouted angrily. 

She screamed again, helpless as the shuttle took off, and with it, the last chance she had in bringing Steve back. Clint’s grasp began to go loose. She let out a cry of rage and despair.

“I DON’T CARE!,” she yelled back and she broke away from Clint. He looked at her dismally.

“I can’t lose you, too.” He breathed out as he looked her deep in the eye.  
She held up the same hard and resentful look. His words no longer meant anything. She felt dead anyway. Empty.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she uttered bitterly then she walked away from him.  

All the mighty heroes were gathering up and she made her way to Strange who was clumsily getting to his feet.

“What has Thanos made of Steve?” She asked hardly, indifferent and unconcerned towards his poor condition.

“I —I don’t’ know,” he murmured feebly, shaking his head, clearly still dizzy from the hit.

“She furrowed her brows.

"What do you mean you don’t know? Surely you know what that stupid rock of yours can do,” she spat.

“I’m sorry for what happened to Captain Rogers but the time stone is a complex relic, whose powers go beyond my knowledge and it’s impossible what Than—”

“Beyond your knowledge?” she cut him in with an outraged expression. “So you just carried around that powerful stone you know nothing about?" 

She flipped her forearm up and pressed it against the magician’s throat, tackling him against the wall.

"This is all your fault,” she muttered. “What kind of hero engages in a fight with a device he does not understand?”

“Hey, leave him alone.” Wong stepped in. “You’re taking it out on the wrong person.”

Strange coughed hardly under her pressure.

“I am no hero,” he managed to utter.

“Natasha, that’s enough,” Clint called gently too as he reached for her forearm and pulled it down. “He was just trying his best…like all of us here.”

Her eyes remained locked on the weak shell of a man standing before her as he caught his breath. 

“Indeed,” she muttered slowly. “You are not.”

And she walked away. 

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	2. Part II

As he trotted along the streets his costume began to attract curious and baffled looks from the population. He walked past a coffee shop with tables out on the sidewalk and adroitly yanked a jacket hanging on the back of a chair momentarily left unattended by its rightful owner. He then turned round the corner, put it on and zipped all the way up to cover the uniform.

He knew exactly where he was going —and the prospect of it made him his heartbeat quicken— as he had read all the files and data over and over the past years.

When he reached the address, he looked up at the common-looking building standing tall before him and that he knew sheltered S.H.I.E.L.D's offices. He took a deep breath in. It had sounded like a good idea at first but now that he was there, he wasn't sure what kind of response his "visit" would provoke. He went to stand in the quiet alley just a few yards away and waited for when the right time would come. But was there really a right time for it?

He waited for hours with the same acute level of attention and intensity, observing from a distance the coming and going of passersby. He found the sight of it to be both disturbing and soothing. What his heart recognized his mind couldn't comprehend. A duality rowing fiercely within him.

It was getting when a shiny red car eventually pulled over just in front of the building entrance. Steve held his breath and bent over as he peeked from behind the wall.

A slender silhouette stepped out of the building, stood in the middle of the street and glanced down at its watch. Steve froze as he took in the features of his old friend. He then shook his head to bring himself back to reality and started towards him, his head bent down for discretion.

For each step he took, he thought of a hundred ways to initiate the conversation and found them to be a hundred unfitting ways to do so. When he finally got there, he stepped in just before his old friend would step into the car. He looked up with a slightly annoyed and sarcastic smirk on.

"Surely the sidewalk is wide enough for two respectable gentlemen without you having to block me into getting in my own car."

Steve slowly rose his head up while he stared at him in utter bafflement.

"No...," he murmured, almost inaudible. "That's impossible."

"It's really me, Howard." Steve uttered the words gently as if it could help his friend digest the revelation a little more smoothly.

Howard Stark was speechless for the first time Steve could remember. He stepped back to take a wider look at the man standing before him.

"But you were...," he started and his throat squeezed. "How can you be here?"

Steve pursed his lips together and nodded. "I know. It's really long to explain."

He took a lingering look at his long-lost friend. He was struck by the very subtle features he and Tony shared and that he had not noticed back then. Father and son blended together in a way he could no longer tell which reminded him of which.

Howard's eyes were as wide as they could be, and past the utter confusion, once he began to process the undeniable fact standing just before him, he caved in. He scurried up and pulled him into a hug.

Howard chuckled lightly but his embrace remained tight and disclosed the feelings of loss and grieving kept buried in for so long. When he eventually pulled away, he put a hand on each of his arms and nodded, clearing his throat. It seemed he was holding tears back.

"I want to hear everything," Howard exclaimed as an attempt to pull himself back together.

"Anything you want but I'd rather keep a low profile for now."

Howard shook his head. "Of course. You're completely right."

He motioned him to get into the car then stepped closely behind. He shut the door quickly.

"Jarvis, take us home as promptly as you can."

"Sir, I thought we had both agreed prompt driving was to be kept for urgent matters only," the driver answered in an English accent.

"For Heaven's sake, Jarvis! This is assuredly the most urgent urgent matter we can possibly get! Now fire up, will you?"

The butler shot a glimpse at him through the rearview mirror and a silent gasp escaped his lips.

"Sir, is that..."

"Yes, yes! Now, will you please take us home?" Howard cried out.

The ride was silent for the most part, as both Stark and Jarvis were too far engrossed into solemn and avid staring. Steve did not react to it as it wasn't the first time he was the recipient of such intense and bewildered looks. He actually caught himself staring back at Howard the same way. Jarvis was not driving as fast as he had been asked but neither he or his employer had picked up on it.  
The car finally entered a private area up the alley. Howard hopped out before it had completely stopped.

"Welcome to my humble house," he said, clearing his throat.

Steve glanced up. It had to be the most luxurious mansion he had ever laid eyes on. Steve smiled politely and muffled the light snort that wanted to slip out.

They stepped inside. Jarvis was staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He then loosened his tie a bit and took a deep breath in.

"I'll go make some tea," he announced keenly as if the beverage held the key to calming his nerves. Howard rolled his eyes at him like he had heard this sentence a thousand times before.

He took Steve to the sitting room and closed the cherry sliding doors behind him leaving just a small gap.

He turned to look at Steve, who smirked back. Silence ensued. Again.

"Do you want to sit?" he asked.

Steve nodded. He didn't really want to. He was too nervous to sit down.

"Sure," he answered anyway.

He went to the sofa and sat down. Howard stepped closer but, anxious not to be too imposing, kept some distance. He half-sat on the armchair of the sofa right opposite.

The doors slid open. It made Steve get up.

Howard sighed, no longer concealing his annoyance. "Jarvis, I thought you said you were making tea!"

"I was going to sir, but Ana had already put some to brew in a kettle."

Howard crossed his arms whilst Jarvis hastily walked into the room, carrying a silver plate. He put it down on the table and started pouring the drink into cups

He picked up one and took it to Stark who, totally ignoring it, leaped forward towards his visitor.

"Now, tell me everything."

Steve nodded. Jarvis gulped down nervously and held his employer's cup up to his lips and took a sip of it in response. Howard looked daggers at him.

"Thanks, Jarvis. You can leave us, now."

Edwin's body twitched in surprised like he had just been struck by lightning.

"But sir, " he began bashfully.

"Thank you, Jarvis."

Jarvis tried to control the sullen expression all his face and body wanted to display. He threw one last glimpse in Steve's direction and trudged out of the room, ostentatiously a great deal of resentment for being deprived of the continuation of that crazy tale.

"We thought you crashed with the plane," Howard continued then paused. "We searched for you for so long. But we couldn't find you."

Howard sounded apologetic and remorseful. He looked down at the floor and shook his head. When he looked up at Steve, his eyes were covered with a watery cloak.

"I'm sorry we didn't look harder."

Steve smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you did. And it's okay."  
Howard bit his lower lip and swallowed down hard. His shoulders seemed to be lifted off the weight of long years of self-blaming.

"So how did you get off the plane before it crashed? And why didn't you come back sooner?"

He looked at him closely. "Because I never got off," he answered. Howard frowned.

And from there he began to tell the whole story.

By the time he had finished, Stark displayed an odd combination of bewilderment, shock, and excitement.

"So you have in your possession a device — a time stone — that can move anyone or anything through time?"

Steve nodded.

"67 years," Howard whispered musingly to himself. "What is the future like?" he jumped up the sofa. "JARVIS!", he walked back and forth. "No it's probably better wiser I don't know anything."

Jarvis was in the room faster than it had taken Stark to call his name.

"Give me some brandy, will you? I need to think!"

Edwin nodded and walked over to the mini bar. He unhurriedly poured the liquor into the glass.

"Haha," Howard exclaimed as he snatched the drink away and drank it up. "All the way from the future. Can you believe it, Edwin?"

Jarvis stared quizzically.

"Don't' give me that look. I know you eavesdropped the whole conversation." Stark was particularly merry despite the nature of his statement.

"Mr Stark, I took the liberty of calling Miss Carter —without revealing the striking news over the phone obviously — she should be here very soon."

"Great initiative, Jarvis."

Steve was motionless, and hearing her name dropped so casually caused his heartbeat to quicken.

"Peggy," he murmured numbly.

He felt the same eagerness and nervousness had experienced every time she had walked into the room during his training in the camp. He felt like a cadet again just at the sound of her name.

Stark, completely oblivious, pointed a finger at him. "Is that your costume underneath?"

Steve pulled himself back to reality and nodded mechanically before unzipping his jacket. He resumed musing over the upcoming reunion immediately after.

Howard pouted as he gave it an assessing look. Jarvis, standing right behind, peeked from over his shoulder to see it, too.

"I certainly expected something more...pioneering!" Stark commented amusedly. You still got the shield?"

Steve rubbed his forehead. "I do. But I left it there."

* * *

Natasha gently stroked the red star lying at the center of the shield with her fingertips, as she stood alone in one of the rooms of the Avengers facilities. The touch of the cool metal enveloped her with a timid, warm comfort she longed for at this moment. She had found it just a couple of feet away from where Steve had been standing.

Strange glanced at her from the other room.

"Is she always that....rigid?" he asked as he turned his attention back to the rest of the team.

Hawkeye looked up at him from the couch he was sitting on.

"She kept her cool, actually. She would have snapped your neck if she really wanted to," Clint remarked and sighed. "And believe it or not, she's the most sensible one in the group. You wouldn't want to have dealt with Barnes or Wilson."

"I second that," Tony chimed in from the bar as he gulped down some cognac.  
Strange arched his eyebrows. "Lucky me."

"Wait till they arrive. They're on their way," Clint added.

Strange's face let on a mild panic.

"Anyhow, Wong and I discussed the possible ways Thanos might have disposed of the Captain. And —"

The magician paused as Natasha walked into the room, looking at him closely.  
"We think it's unlikely he killed him as we would have found some...remnants on the ground," he carried on cautiously. He turned to Wong for support, who simply nodded in response.

"So what did he do to him?" Wanda asked.

"It's very likely that Thanos sent him back in time, instead of forward. Impossible to know how far though, but I doubt he sent him just a few hours or days back if Thanos' plan was to ensure he can't return."

All the Avengers cast knowing glances at one another.

"I think I know far," Natasha spoke for all, and it was one of the worst news she could get.

She dreaded she would never see him back, not with so many decades standing between them. He was as gone as one could be.

"So what do we do?" Scott asked.

Her look hardened.

"We just take the Time Stone back, right?" Peter Parker chimed in then turned sheepish when he noticed he wasn't getting the same kind of enthusiasm in response.

"The Time Stone can only work if it's aimed at or carried by the thing you want to go through time," Strange explained. "Even if we get it back..." he went on.

"...we don't have any way to reach Steve," Clint finished bitterly.

"Wait a minute. Can't you just travel to him and bring him back?" Tony said to Strange.

"And to when, exactly?" he retorted. "It's impossible to know in what year he is. I would have to travel to every month of every year up to now. And what date to begin with? It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

The room went silent, and although she was standing in a corner, Natasha's mind had left the room a moment ago. The rescue mission was doomed before it had even started; and yet it wasn't her first concern. Without a glance at her teammates, she walked back to the shield.


	3. Part III

Howard took him to an immense guest room and pointed at the en-suite bathroom for him to use before stepping out.

Jarvis followed soon after gently carrying an elegant wooden chest he put it at the end of the bed.

"Miss Carter took care of collecting all your clothes and belongings but after some the sight of them became too difficult so she entrusted them to Mr Stark to donate or make good use of, but he never brought himself to separate himself from it," Jarvis said quietly, gazing down at the chest. He opened it, took a pair of brown trousers and a light beige  shirt and put them on the bed next to it.

Steve remained, wistful, as he silently began to perceive the depth of his friends' grief. Howard hurried back into the room.

"Thank you, Jarvis." He casually nodded at his butler as an invitation to leave the room.

He then turned to Steve. "I'll just be down the hall," he said with unsettling seriousness. "If you need anything just let me know."

He patted Steve's arm and his eyes seemed to cloak with concern at the prospect of leaving him like he was taking the risk of never seeing him again. Howard brushed off the feeling with a feigned casual smile.

"Thank you, Howard."

He smiled again. A satisfied smile subtly tainted by culpability. "Of course," he mustered the words quietly, then headed towards the door. He paused and turned with a genuine content expression. "You're home now." Then he walked out.

And those three simple words left Steve standing dazed and disoriented in the middle of the room. He had spent so long away from home he was no longer where to find it, or if he would even recognize it.

After coming out of the shower, Steve walked to the chest and put on his old clothes. He looked himself in the mirror with a puzzled expression. It as almost like he belonged to this time again. He stood in front of the case again and ran one hand over the smooth wood. As he put a hand on each side of the lid, he paused, staring down at it, anxious. He took a deep breath and lifted the chest. A pair of brown trousers and a beige shirt was lying on the top. He put them on the bed and looked into the box again. Coins, the novel he recalled he was reading the last few weeks before his last mission, a shiny decoration he had received post-mortem he had read in his file after waking up but that he had never wished to retrieve, a few black and white photographs of him and Bucky, his mother's watch. He picked up the latter and grazed it with his fingers as his eyes began to tingle as they cloaked with tears. The watch was just the way he remembered it the last time he had seen it. He brought it up to his chin and closed his eyes.

He then nodded silently to himself and put it down again. Next, he picked up the photographs. He and Bucky as civilians at Coney Island — he chuckled quietly at the memory; he and Bucky as soldiers, surrounded by the Howling Commando, cheering. He looked at the genuine smile on his own face and was struck by the sheer joy oozing from him. He realized he hadn't smiled this way in a very long time.

Glancing down, he noticed the brown leather book lying at the bottom of the chest. He reached for it with eagerness and flipped through the pages as he looked at all his old drawings and sketches. Some he recalled; some he had completely forgotten about. He remembered the feel of the lead pencil in his hand as he drew across the page, sitting quietly under the tent during the quiet days at the camp.

He realized how much time had passed when he felt like an old man going through the memories of a past life. Memories that brought a smile to his face, and yet remote memories he could never fully grasp again no matter how hard he would try.

This moment, although otherworldly precious, resonated very much an out of boy experience. He couldn't help feeling like he was flicking through the souvenirs and their intrinsic memories of a stranger he once used to know. And as content as he was in this moment, part of him senselessly felt uncomfortable and guilty relishing mementos that no longer really belonged to him.

He put everything back into the chest and went back to the bathroom to have a shave. That's when loud voices coming from the hall caught his attention.

"I am serious, Howard!" a female voice called out. "If you made me come all the way here for some fashion advice for your next tryst, I swear I will tear that mustache off your face without any shaving equipment."

His body tensed as he immediately recognized the owner of that voice. He walked over to the door and gently opened it. He peeked through and only caught three shadows reflecting at the end of the wall.

"That is not. I swear," Howard retorted. "And besides, I only called you once for that. You can't blame me for it for the rest of my life!"

"Err, sir, I think we're steering away from the important topic," Jarvis babbled between them.

"Twice, Howard. You're forgetting that evening from last June."

"That was for the Promising Enterprisers banquet at the White House! You can't count it as a tryst when I was meeting with the President!"

"Except you ended up spending the night with his cute blonde counselor," Peggy answered matter-of-factly.

"Sir, please." Jarvis pleaded desperately. "Miss Carter, you might want to give this clearly sensitive matter some rest."

"Right. Peggy — Peg," Howard started again with a much calmer voice. "I need you to listen carefully to what I'm about to tell you."

There was silence.

"Fine. I'm listening," she answered with a reluctant, heavy sigh.

"You might want to sit down."

"Whatever it is you have to tell me Howard, I can take it standing in my tights and heels."

"Mr. Stark is right," Jarvis intervened. "It would be wiser to sit."

Peggy was struggling to disapprove in loud protest when she suddenly froze and turned pale as Steve stood a few feet behind them. Her purse slipped out of her grasp and felt to the marble with a clatter.

Jarvis and Howard both turned to look at Steve, then cautiously steered their gazes back on Peggy's pale expression.

His heart was beating faster than he ever remembered it had before, and mustered a little composure to voice his next words gently.

"Peggy," he murmured. And that all he needed and wanted to say this moment.

She looked stunning — more beautiful than he recalled. Young and strong as he had once known her. The sight of her being so vigorous and youthful eclipsed the memory of all those frequent visits at the hospital in the future.

He couldn't help but smile at the miracle time reversing had just brought upon him.

"It's really him, Pegg" Howard murmured.

All the features on her face sprang into a quiet gasp.

"Steve?" she eventually uttered.

He nodded calmly.

"Jarvis, I think we should go make some tea," Howard said but neither Steve or Peggy heard it.

The two men were off the second after.

Her two hands went to her mouth and her face suddenly twitched into a whimper. Her eyes filled up with tears and, like they both knew it was the right time, ran to each other.

She clasped her around his neck and squeezed him, anxious he would magically slip out like a vivid hallucination until her arms went numb.

He heard her sobbing into his neck.

"It's been so long — so long," she cried, echoing her own words at the hospital decades from now. "I thought I would never see you again."

Holding her in his arms, smelling the familiar scent of lavender coming off her hair, and his mind and heart processing that the young Peggy we knew, and the Peggy whose coffin he had carried down the aisle, was in the flesh into his embrace, he arched over and held her tight against him, as tears rolled down his face.

"My Peggy," he whispered into her neck, grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought him back, as his finger slid down her silky dark hair. "It's so good to have you back."

He silently thanked the Universe and fate for that exquisite piece of unadulterated bliss.

And the moment seemed to go on for a heavenly eternity.

Later on that evening, after Howard had returned Peggy heard the story behind his return, standing next to him, holding tightly to his arm. She listened both content and troubled at the realization that the Steve by her side came from another time. Every time she locked eyes with him, she watched him with immeasurable admiration and affection, and he understood that the feelings she had once for him had never really died; if anything, they had grown in his absence, cherished like valuable relics.

Long after the clock had struck midnight, Peggy suggested that Steve should get some rest. But what was Peggy's suggestion was taken like an indisputable command by the males in the room. Jarvis wholeheartedly agreed — Howard did so too, but a bit more reluctantly. And soon all parted to different rooms, and Stark to his lab for research on time travel one could only assume.

Peggy was athirst for more and more details, even the most insignificant ones. She didn't talk much, simply listened. And then he came to understand she was simply insatiable of the sound of his voice.

Lying on the bed next time, she lost her feud against the night and fell into a deep slumber. Holding her dearly and taking on this peaceful, he watched her.

She slept in his arms that night for the first time.

* * *

Lying with her day clothes over the untouched bed, Natasha was silently gazing at the white ceiling above her, unable to find sleep. Incapable of finding rest and a peace of mind.

When the first rays of sunshine broke through  the window, she finally got her excuse to get out of bed and wander about the building.

She didn't stop at the kitchen for her stomach did not yearn either food or liquid. She was on her way to the computers for some research when a familiar silhouette standing outside caught her attention. She hesitantly glanced around her then walked out to him.

Bucky was quietly staring at the sun rising.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked blankly without detaching his gaze from the horizon.

She remained silent and that was all he needed as an answer. Both he and Sam had been filled in with the news.

Natasha looked up at him, and for the first time, she saw how Bucky could look confused and disoriented, like a little child, without his best friend around. He never looked so defenseless.

"Why don't you tell me preoccupies you?" he asked. "You don't believe this Dr. Strange can figure out a way to bring Steve?"

She glanced down and folded her arms. "That's not what troubles me."

"So what troubles you?" he inquired calmly, but stern.

"I'm afraid...," she blurted out, taken aback by her revealing choice of words. "I'm afraid that even if we find a way to bring him back he will choose to stay."

He turned his head to look at her and watched her closely. "Why would he?"

She tried to gather and summarize the thousands of thoughts she had been running over and over since the evening before. It was impossible for her to list them or even tell apart neutral from selfish ones.

"Why wouldn't he?" she answered. "He has every reason not to want to leave it all behind once again." She looked at Bucky again and realized it was the longest and most real conversation they had ever had. "If you were sent back home, would you really choose to give it up?"

Bucky stared at the horizon again, and several seconds went by during which nothing but the sound of birds chirping could be heard.

"I don't know," he said musingly.

And she both appreciated and detested the dreaded, honest answer.

 


	4. Part IV

 

_Tony had organized a party as way to properly celebrate the defeat of HYDRA which also coincided with Natasha's return after many months of running just a couple of weeks before. All the Avengers were reunited, and although there was still a lot coming ahead — priority being to retrieve the Chitauri scepter — this evening was just the opportunity to celebrate their reunion as a whole team._

_The party, on Tony's usual scale, involved a lot of booze, and many hours after midnight had struck, several of the human mighty heroes were down. Rhodes was slumped on  an armchair, Tony snoozing at his feet on the rug, Bruce was slumbering too but probably due to boredom than any liquor; Maria Hill had found herself a comfortable couch to snuggle in by a quiet corner, whilst Sam and Clint had fallen off on the pool table. There was just the sound of quiet, remote jazz music playing in the background. the lack of activity and companionship had made Thor stand up and go for a nocturnal fly._

_Steve walked across the room, gazing at all his teammates with an amused smirk as he silently went past them, and the sight of Natasha, sitting on the edge of a large leather sofa with a numb expression caught his attention._

_"I thought you were sleeping too," he said as he approached._

_Her head rose very slowly and she looked at him with a groggy face. "I'm Russian, Steve. I can hold my alcohol."_

_Her body swayed and she held on to the edge. "Okay," she conceded. "Maybe not that much alcohol."_

_She prepped her shoulder onto the sofa and gently bent backward until she was completely lying on her back, and stared at the ceiling._

_"In my defense," she lifted her finger. "It's Clint's fault. He bet he could beat me again totally ignoring the 17 other times he challenged me to the same game and lost. And I'm too proud to say no."_

_He chuckled. She tilted her head so she could look at him._

_"Look at yourself, standing there perfectly sober. And tall," she added. "Which is making me slightly dizzy. Can't you shrink a little or something?"_

_"Okay, okay," he answered and sat on the sofa._

_"Tony shouldn't have bought so much booze. I hope he pukes his guts out."_

_"He's passed out," Steve answered. It made her frown._

_"It's not going by my plan," she mused aloud. He snorted. "We didn't really get to catch up since I've come back," she remarked out of the blue._

_He looked at her surprised she would be the one bringing up the topic._

_"I didn't see the point of pressing you for questions I knew you wouldn't answer," he answered quietly._

_"Why wouldn't I'?" she asked._

_"Because it's second nature with you to cover your tracks."_

_"Steve, you're so righteous." She rolled her eyes ostentatiously then shot him a very decided look. "Okay, you can ask me five questions and I will answer them truthfully."_

_He arched an eyebrow, skeptically. "Truthfully?" he repeated._

_"We're friends now, and I am always truthful to my friends:" She paused. "Annnd I'm also totally drunk which means you can take advantage of me... to a certain extent — I always wear a blade under my skirts." He glanced away and chuckled bashfully. Natasha fixed him unapologetically. "So what do you say, Rogers? It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."_

_"Quiet, you two. Some people are trying to sleep, here." Rhodey mumbled from his armchair, and Tony seemed to back him up with a deep groan._

_Natasha smirked._

_Steve prepped his shoulder on the sofa to bend down then decided to lie down completely, careful of leaving enough space apart between him and Natasha. He turned his head so he could face her and she slightly turned on her side so her body was angled towards him._

_"Where did you go after saying goodbye ?" he said in a low voice._

_"Tokyo, Budapest, Tangier, London, Kolkata," she listed. "I have contacts and safe houses, there."_

_He looked down at her and frowned, dazzled by this blatant honesty. Natasha's expression was calm and neutral, completely confident and untroubled about disclosing personal information._

_"That was...honest," he remarked._

_"Are you sure you're sober? I clearly established the rules of the game just 50 seconds ago."_

_He dismissed her comment with a quick eye roll. He then stared back at her very closely, and more earnestly ._

_"What made you come back?"_

_Her eyes seemed to search for something to look at. "Because being here gives me a purpose," she said. She turned her head and he watched her as she spoke musingly whilst staring at the ceiling like a lost girl. "Lines were blurred for so long. I've lost myself in so many ways and I've done so many things morally wrong for causes I believed — or I was told were right. But they never were. I can see it, now. So clearly, like I finally stepped out of the thickest fog." She paused, seeming to gauge it with faint consternation, and furrowed her brows deeply as she kept her eyes fixed on a specific point on the ceiling. "Being an Avenger is the only time I have felt what I am doing has a meaning. It's the only achievement in my life I am truly proud of. So after months of running, I don't know, I think I got scared my flimsy moral compass would break again. Scared that I would lose my ways again and make the wrong choices."_

_He watched silently and she turned her head back to him as if she had needed to have her eyes turned in any other direction to voice out what she considered to be a shameful truth._

_"You wouldn't. You make the good choices," he said. She dived her large green eyes into his. "That's what makes you an Avenger, and a good person. Nobody can take that away from you. Not now, not ever."_

_"You seem so sure of it," she said and smiled sadly. "You don't know what I have done."_

_Indeed, he didn't. He hadn't read her files. Not because he couldn't, because he didn't need to._

_"Only people who've known darkness can recognize light when they see it," he said. "You will always be able to tell them apart...because you've seen both."_

_Natasha listened to his words in certain bewilderment like she was hearing them addressed to her for the first time. She processed them in a silent nod._

_"Thank you," she said, shifting herself to face him completely._

_He mirrored her and gently turned on his side._

_"For what?" he said. They were lying only a few inches apart now._

_"For being a good friend."_

_He smiled and his eyes roamed down to take in every feature of her face. It was the first time, he realized, she was so close and for so long._

_"Always," he murmured. "I'm glad you came back."_

_During that moment, it felt like there was only the two of them in that room._

_"You only have a few minutes left before I doze off," she whispered as her heavy lids closed on her eyes. "You might want to hurry."_

_"Best music band of all time?" he asked._

_She arched an eyebrow and laughed. "Are you seriously wasting one question on something some trivial?"_

_"You learn a lot about a person from their musical tastes. So, best band of all time."_

_"As if you would actually know."_

_"Hey," he exclaimed quietly. "I did my catch up."_

_They smiled. "The Beatles," she said. "Easy."_

_"Do you really hide a blade under your skirts?" he asked._

_She smirked cockily. "Why? You want to try and find out?"_

_He snorted and shook his head and momentarily turned on his back again, dismissing her teasing remark although it made his cheeks slightly flush. He then shifted back to his former position to face her, and went serious again._

_He wished she could put it off and stay in his company for what was left of the night. Silence fell upon them for several seconds as she patiently waited for his next question._

_"Do you think I'm wrong to go after Bucky, even there is little to no chance I can ever get him back?" he asked. She had given him the file in the cemetery before leaving but she had strongly implied it was a dead-end and a bad idea._

_"I think every thing you choose to do you do it for honorable reasons. There's nothing wrong in doing what is right," she said with a slight shrug._

_Hearing those few words were enough to put his mind at rest._

_"Thank you," he murmured._

_"For what?" she echoed his words._

_"For being a good friend."_

_"Always."_

_And it struck him how good it felt to have her back. She smiled and closed her eyes, and almost right away, too soon in his liking, she fell asleep. He watched her closely, dazzled by how peaceful she looked. He lifted his arm and reached for the woollen throw resting above her and gently pulled it down. He covered her with it, and as he was about to get up and go, he realized there was nowhere else he wanted to be at this very moment than on that sofa. He turned to his side again so he could be facing for the rest of the night._

When Steve opened his eyes, he was for an instant surprised to find a figure with dark hair sleeping against him. He rubbed his eyes and gently moved away so he could get a clearer view of the person next to him. He recognized Peggy, and a wave of memories from the day before submerged him. He laid his head on the pillow again, wrapped his arm around her back and relished on the moment as his heart, surprisingly so, seemed to ache at having to brush away a sweet memory.

Staring at the ceiling, he thought of Natasha, and he sighed quietly as he feared he would never see her again.

Peggy woke up an hour later, quite abruptly, her eyes frantically searching for him. She found peace when they fell on him.

"Morning," she said.

"Hi," he answered, and he felt hit by a memory that did not belong to them. Peggy got on her knees and kissed his forehead tenderly before leaving and rushing out of the bedroom.

She came back in no time.

"Howard won't let me bring a tray here. He wants us to have breakfast with him outside."

She seemed more dissatisfied about it than he was. He nodded. "Sure."

"I'm going to use the other bathroom. Meet you there, okay?" she said. And she left again. Steve sat numbly on the bed for a few seconds before completely blocking out the unexpected soaring memories and went to the bathroom.

"So what can you tell us about the future?" Peggy asked during breakfast. "Except that the beard seems to be the fashion."

He smiled and rubbed it. "I meant to shave it before you'd arrive."

She smiled as she gazed at him. "I like it."

"Steve, I need you to tell me about that gem. The Eye of Agamotto — is that what you call it?" Howard asked.

It amused him — of course, he would want to hear more.

"I don't know much about it. Dr. Strange is the one who could answer your questions."

Howard frowned. "The magician/former surgeon?"

Steve nodded. Stark pouted. "That's a shame! Do you know what I could do if I had access to it?"

"Which is why it's great you do not," Peggy cut in. "Now that Steve is back and things have gone back to normal, it is better to leave that gem where it is."

Drinking from his tea, the words somehow stung him. Normal. What was normal? All his life had a succession of abnormal things, so much that he couldn't recognize normal if he saw it.

Howard rolled his eyes at his best friend and grumpily bit into his toast.

"We'll take care of everything," she continued. "We'll come up with an explanation for the press as to where you were all these years."

"Amnesia, perhaps?" Jarvis suggested.

Both Howard and Peggy grunted noisily. Edwin went back to sipping his tea.

"So cliché," Howard complained. "Do you know how many stories like that I've read in the papers?"

She agreed. "I really hope we'll come up with something else. Maybe Colonel Phillips will have an idea."

Steve raised his eyebrows at hearing another old friend's name.

"It's probably better if you stay here for now. Until we get people prepared. Jarvis will go and buy you some more modern clothes," Howard said. "Although _modern_ might be quite relative for you."

"Maybe there is something you would like to do...Visit James' grave, perhaps," she uttered carefully, looking at him with tenderness and sympathy.

"Bucky is alive," Steve said.

His three friends turned mute. "Is he?" she asked.

"It's a long story, but yeah he is."

He swallowed hardly as he thought the Bucky from this time was being tortured and brainwashed, or maybe put to sleep for when he would be needed. That reminded of HYDRA and part of him wanted to mention the infiltration within S.H.I.E.L.D. but then recalled he was not allowed to influence the future, no matter how right the motives could be.

The three friends nodded for what sounded like a solid plan and got up to see to their respective occupations. Steve remained quiet, pondering whether it was the solid plan he wanted.

He followed Howard in his lab whilst Peggy was giving Jarvis instructions. Steve wandered about the room, riveted at the sight of so many and varied technologies lying on different parts of the room. Obviously, the equipment used seemed retrograde in comparison to what he had gotten used to seeing in S.H.I.E.L.D but Howard's inventions all looked astoundingly advanced for their time. It made him wonder that he could have easily fitted in the future had he been the one sent there.

The messiness made him smile, though. As it looked particularly familiar. He had seen the same kind of disorganization in another lab. And the same kind of passion than the one Howard was displaying in that same other lab's occupant.

He reached out towards a crystal ball floating thanks to some sort of energy coming from the platform standing right below it.

"Hum, you might want not to touch that..." Howard called, clearing his throat. "Especially if you'd very much like to keep your arm."

Steve pulled his hand away, buried deep inside his pocket and snorted. "That's exactly what Tony would say."

Howard lifted his head off his notes. "Who's Tony?" he asked with a deep frown.

Steve bit his lower lip. "It's...your son."

Howard's eyes widened. "You know my...—I have a son?"

Steve nodded awkwardly. Howard took his glasses off, seeming to ponder the meaning of life at a deeper level he had ever done before.

"What is he like?" he asked quietly.

"I...can't say much. But he's a lot like you." He answered. At least, a lot like he knew Howard. From what he had gathered, Tony hadn't exactly seen that side of his father.

Howard gulped loudly and nodded numbly. "You're probably right," he trailed off. He put his glasses back on and forced himself to get back to work.

After a few seconds during which he scribbled a string of words, he jerked his head up again.

"What do you mean like me?" he asked with a quizzical expression.

Peggy stepped into the room and helped Steve dodge a big bullet. She took him back with her to the living room.

Jarvis was out running errands; Howard was still working in his lab (or maybe just trying after the shocking revelation he had been made) until he ran out saying he had something urgent to do, whereas Peggy was writing a list of all the things to do to prepare Captain America's public return. Old music was playing on the radio — or so he found it to be.

"Maybe it would be better to wait a bit before making it public," he said and knelt down in front of her. "Who knows what could happen?"

Peggy cocked an eyebrow, genuinely quizzical. "What could happen?" she asked. "You said Thanos wanted to get rid of you. Why would he come at you now that you're away?"

Technically, he agreed with her logic and yet it was a logic his mind couldn't find peace with. He held her hands and gently stroked them with his thumbs. "Who knows what his real plan is?" he answered. "He's unpredictable. Let's wait a bit. We've got time, now."

Peggy watched him closely and shook her head. She slipped a hand out of his grip to scratch the side of her face. She laughed nervously as she seemed to be fighting off tears.

"Time is a luxury I can never take for granted. I learned it the hard way," she said as her voice cracked. "Look what happened to us. We were not given time, and we lost so many good things."

He looked up at her affectionately as her words echoed within him so much depth. They both knew the value of time, and they both knew how fickle and cruel it could be.

"I know," he said. "I miss them, too. I miss everything we could have had but never did."

"Then what's stopping you?" she whispered. "Let's not waste any more second."

He nodded, appreciating every word she said, aware they were all true. And yet, he couldn't totally yield in to the moment. His head turned as he paid attention to the new song starting on the radio. "You're right," he said and stood up. He took his hand along and took her to the center of the room. She followed with a confused expression. Standing just a few inches away from her, he nervously bit his bottom lip before putting one hand on her waist.

"Shall we?" he asked and his voice cracked. Peggy closed her eyes and nodded. She stepped closer and held his other hand. He lifted it up, and as she pressed herself against his chest, he gently danced along the music. Peggy pressed her hand on his back and buried her face into his neck, smelling in his natural scent.

Neither of them saw it, but a tear rolled along both their cheeks as they relished on the dance fate had deprived them of. No moment would ever beat that, he knew, and he would carry that memory away from him until his very last breath.

Later that day, they all waited for Howard who had not returned long after he had said he would. He eventually burst through the door and stood in the middle of the living room, particularly excited.

"I made a few calls because I knew some people who know some people who know some people who could answer some questions on time traveling. Earlier, one of my contacts called me back saying to meet urgently because someone important wanted to hear what I know."

"What you know?" Peggy frowned.

Howard clutched his hat. "I may or may not have dropped the word Eye of Agamotto."

"HOWARD," Peggy cried out. "Do you know how stupid that was?"

He brushed it off by shaking his hat at her. "Whatever. I went there and met with this guy — very with strange-looking exotic clothes. After a short conversation, somebody else stepped in and said she had to speak to Steve. I don't know how she knew his name but there are many other things she seems to know."

Howard turned his head in the direction of the hall and nodded. A woman, short and thin, wearing loose white clothes from Asia, with a bald head stepped into the room. Her eyes roamed over each person present in the room then stopped when she saw Steve.

"You are Captain Steve Rogers. And you come from the future, although technically you are from our current time."

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"I know many things," she answered calmly. "And I also know your presence here is the result of an accident."

Peggy glanced back and forth at them. She unconsciously reached for Steve's hand and held it tight.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm the Ancient One," she said simply.

He had heard this name before, and often, coming from the mouths of Dr. Strange and Wong. He knew, although vaguely, who she was and what she meant to the two men.

"The Eye of Agamotto has been used on you. I can feel it," she continued.

"Is there anything you can do to help defeat Thanos?" Steve asked, hopeful.

"Matters from the future are things I cannot deal with," she said.

"Then why are you here?" he asked.

"To offer you my help," the Ancient One replied. "If you'd like it."

She didn't another word after that but a whole tacit conversation ensued through their eyes. He knew what kind of offer she was making and she knew he had understood it.

He glanced down at her neck and recognized it — the very object that had brought him here was now hanging around her neck. She had the very way of taking him back to the future.

The Ancient one walked over to him, raised her hand and gently tapped his forehead. He felt his whole self being thrown out of his body. Standing in the void, he noticed Peggy, Howard and Jarvis and his wife were in the room, like frozen. He saw himself sitting on the couch, Peggy holding his hand.

"I thought it would be best to have some privacy," a voice echoed into that impalpable void. The Ancient One came walking to him again.

"What did you do them?" he asked warily. "To me?"

"Everybody is fine, I can assure you that," she said. "But I would rather talk with you and answer the questions you have for me."

He steadied himself, turned his attention away from his friends and faced her. He glanced at the necklace again.

"The time stone, can you use it on me to take me back?" he asked.

"I can, indeed."

"But...?" he inquired skeptically.

She grinned subtly. "There is none. The choice is yours."

He nodded nervously. "Do I have to go back?"

"Only if you want to," the Ancient One said.

"Because my presence here is a mistake?"

"Only if you consider it was your fate to wake up in the future. You were born to live in this time after all; your presence is more of a correction than a mistake. However, the choice remains yours."

He gulped nervously although his astral form, or whatever it was, did not need to. He looked back at Peggy and stared at their holding hands. He pursed his lips as he nodded.

"Then I want to go back," he mustered the courage to voice aloud. "I want to go back there."

The Ancient One looked at him quietly as if she already knew it would be the answer. She nodded and walked to him again. She tapped his forehead again and threw him back into his body in the room.

Steve opened his eyes wide and breathed heavily. He found the Ancient One standing right by Howard just like she was just a moment before their discussion. Peggy, Stark, Jarvis and Ana Jarvis hadn't seemed to notice a thing.

"What kind of help could you provide, exactly?" Peggy went on with the earlier conversation.

The magician didn't answer.

"She can take me back. To the future."

Peggy shook her head. "But you can't make him if he doesn't want to, " she retorted with a smile. She turned her attention back to Steve. "You want to stay here with us," she said enthusiastically, then her large smile dropped as she noticed the lack of response. "Don't you?" she asked with a stern voice.

He looked at her heavily and every bribe of sadness and guilt conveyed through his look.

"Peggy," he began.

Peggy's body jerked up and a moan escaped her lips. "You cannot go," her face contorted as she tried to hold back the tears. "You can't leave, I barely got you back."

The room filled with a heavy, uncomfortable silence.

"Steve," Howard trailed off, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Howard. I have to. They need my help."

Peggy glared at the Ancient One, then turned to Howard. "This is all your fault!" she cried out with a breaking voice. "You couldn't keep away like we told you to."

"Peggy, no," Steve called.

Howard's face dropped.

"I had sensed the Eye's activity," the Ancient One spoke. "I was on my way before your friend had reached out to me."

Peggy slipped her hand out of his grip, rose to her feet and walked off. Knowing he was breaking her heart, so many years after she had probably grieved him, crushed him.

"I'll be read in a few minutes," he said and headed to the guest room.

Steve changed back into his Captain America uniform. He cautiously folded the old clothes he had worn and put them on the bed. He then went to the wooden chest and grazed it.

"Steve," he heard. He turned and found Peggy standing by the door frame. She walked over to him and held his hands. He squeezed back.

"Why do you want to leave?" she asked.

"I have to help defeat Thanos. He's dangerous. I can't look away."

She laughed sadly as she wiped a tear away. "Of course you can't," she said. "But you could still come back once it's over."

He froze for a moment. It struck him to realize the idea hadn't crossed his mind.

He raised his hand and cupped her face. He shook his head gently.

"I can't stay here," he finally said, facing the truth.

"Why not? Is it because of James? You can bring him back with you, or we can save him here. With S.H.I.E.L.D. and Howard, we would find a way to find him wherever he is. I can bring him—"

"Peggy," he hushed her quietly and shook his head.

With her strength and determination, he didn't doubt she could find a way to rescue Bucky.

"We can't change what happened. Everything has to stay the same."

She hardly bit her bottom lip.

"So it's you. You don't want to stay." Peggy had seen right through him. "It may have been 6 years but I know you. I just need to understand why."

Of course, she did. It had to be the hardest thing he would ever do, and yet it was also the most evident. Every fiber of him ached to go back, just like why every memory he had that was attached to the past felt so remote and foreign somehow and every memory attached to the future (and most specifically to Natasha) felt so vivid and unsettling. All of him longed to see Natasha again, even for a minute, even if it means getting by Thanos. It would have been worth it.

"The Steve you once knew has gone — he left when that plane crashed. I have changed, I can see it now but I held on to him because I was afraid I would no longer know who I am. And now that I came back — that I could stay — I can't find my place. I don't belong here anymore."

Tears fell down her face as she listened, nodding. "So you belong there?"

He thought about it. He couldn't put words on it yet, but he missed it. He missed it all.

"I do," he said. "That's why I have to go back."

He is voice was pleading, begging her to understand and accept his decision.

Peggy looked him in the eye, seeming inquisitive. She then nodded.

"What's her name?" she asked.

He frowned. "What?"

A sad, amused smile came to her lips. "Only love can turn even the aridest desert into an oasis. What's the name of that woman you want to go back to?"

He gasped silently. "Peggy," he began to deny.

She rose her fingers to his lips to hush him. "Please, don't deny it. I can live with that —I'd rather live with that." She encouraged him with a smile.

"Natasha," the name slipped out, and along, went away the heaviness of a long-kept secret he hadn't been aware of until he had lost her.

He wanted Natasha, he loved her and needed to stay by her side in whatever way she wanted him. As a lover, as a teammate, or as a good friend. Either was good, and blissful after being torn away from her.

Peggy nodded. "Then you have to get back to her," she said slowly with a squeezed throat. "You deserve to be happy."

He held her in his arms. After they pulled away, she glanced behind him. "Take the chest with you. As a memory."

They made their way to the living room where the others were waiting, holding her hand and his chest under his arm.

He went to say goodbye to Jarvis and his wife, first. "It's been a pleasure meeting you," he said and meant every word. He had always known Jarvis as Tony's artificial intelligence, then as Vision. He learned to appreciate the human behind them.

He then walked over to Howard who had his lips pursed tight together

"I'm sorry," he said.

Howard shook his head. "I'll miss you." And they hugged. "Take care, okay?"

He was about to step away when Howard reached for his arm. He looked at him with the sternest and panicked expression.

"Steve, I need to know. Are things alright between me and Tony? I've always thought I would make a terrible father."

Steve looked him in the eye. Howard was staring expectantly, and anxious for an answer he dreaded. Steve nodded with a grin.

"Tony knows what he means to you," he comforted him, choosing to focus on this fact rather than say things that would leave his friend troubled or guilty about events he had no power on yet.

Howard seemed relieved. He nodded to himself and lightly squeezed his arm.

Steve turned to Peggy.

"God, I hate saying goodbye," Peggy said into a suppressed whimper.

"Me too," he whispered. "I'm glad we get to do it properly this time."

She nodded and a tear rolled down her cheek. He pulled her into his arms.

"You will always be my best girl," he said into her ear and he felt her nod against his chest.

He wished he could have held her forever. His embrace was tight and needy as he said farewell to the first woman he had ever loved. He shut his eyes and smelled the lavender perfume of his hair, making every piece of him recall it perfectly as he painfully knew he was leaving her behind forever and it would the last memory he would have of her to cherish. He savored one last moment being into a world where Peggy still existed.

He pressed his lips to her forehead and kissed it dearly.

When he eventually pulled away, she was smiling at him.

"Goodbye, Steve Rogers."

"Goodbye, Peggy Carter."

As painful as it was — and beyond words — he was peaceful for the first time in his life confident he had made the right decision. He took her hand and kissed it.

He turned to the Ancient One and nodded as a sign he was ready to leave.

She swayed her fingers around and opened the Eye. He cast a look at Peggy who walked over to Howard and leaned onto his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, both with the same sorrowful expressions.

The stone began to glow a bright shade of green and thick ray sprang out of the relic and hit him. He felt his whole body get transported away, like the first time with Thanos. Everything around him blurred and disappeared until it was just a shapeless hole.

When it stopped, he laughed as his mind and his heart recognized the Avengers facility. He was almost home.

He ran up to the main door, across the rooms, desperately looking for a face his eyes sought out longingly. He found her, standing by a window, her fingers stroking his shield.

She flipped around at the sound of remote steps and stood motionless.

"Steve?" she called quietly.

He smiled and ran up to her, as she ran down to him. They collided in the softest embrace.

"I came back to you," he said. "And I never, ever, want to leave you again."

She stroked the side of his face, her magnificent, large green eyes plunging into his.

She leaped up and brushed her lips against his.

"Good," she said. "Cause I can't lose you ever again."

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her like he wished he had a thousand times before. Like he had been terrified he would get a chance to.

* * *

A few weeks later, as Natasha was in her office and checking for mail, a large brown envelope with the address unusually handwritten piqued her curiosity. She opened and tilt it over, and a smaller white envelope enclosed with a folded paper fell out of it.

She took the paper and opened it.

_Agent Romanoff,_

_Apologies for the impromptu letter. I was going through my aunt's belongings and found the enclosed letter addressed to you when I had never seen it before. I hope it will make more sense to you than it did for me._

_Yours sincerely,_

_S. C._

She frowned but opened the letter anyway. A few words had been written in elegant ink in the middle of the paper.

_Dear Natasha,_

_Thank you for being the person who gave Steve a home in the most unexpected place. That's all I ever wished for him. And because of that, you will always have my deepest gratitude._

_Warmest regards,_

_Margaret "Peggy" Carter_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I knew that story wouldn't have more than 3 or 4 parts (it was meant to be an OS, then it was to be 2 parts, and eventually I extended it to 4!)  
> I know it doesn't answer every question — and it's not supposed to. I just wanted to give Steve proper closure with his past. I think going back to the past was the best way to let go of it and embrace his new life (Natasha) without feeling any guilt towards those he had lost.  
> Can't wait to read your thoughts! See you around, soon! :D


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